River: A Novel (19 page)

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Authors: Erin Lewis

BOOK: River: A Novel
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 He signed something
I couldn’t comprehend. After grasping my blank stare, paper and pencil from the
back pocket of his jeans appeared, and he wrote it out for me.

Have faith,
Elodie. I have a plan
and it will work. Just hang in there today
at rehearsal. Your
performance tomorrow
will go
down in
history
.

 Dan then
placed a plate in front of me, but nerves kept my palate from tasting anything

 Rehearsal was similar to the previous day,
except for the mortification. Still flushing from the night before, I asked Dan
to draw me a Hell Maze map to avoid
that
particular humiliation. I decided to walk alone with the
purpose of dispelling any rumors, though I found out later that our kiss outside
the theater had been Epic Gossip, and we might as well make out in front of the
whole damn town upon the hour. 

 Forging ahead, I disregarded the
laboriously slow gait of River and hurried through the mirror maze with only
one wrong turn, thanks to Dan’s map. The map was small enough to eat, if need
be. I was trying to be sly as I glanced at it in my palm, so of course I looked
at it upside down once, hence the wrong turn. Luckily, I found my way out and
to the rehearsal studio early. Having been uncomfortable in River Elodie’s
clothing, I was anxious to get the day over with. Borrowing things from her
wardrobe was necessary, but I wore my own jeans each day as a reminder that I
was still
me
.  

 One of the girls noticed my glasses right
away. I had forgotten to take them off after conquering the maze, too pleased with
my victory and nervous about seeing the group of dancers. I internally kicked
myself while mirroring the sign for “glasses” after it had taken me too long to
translate her questions about them. Later that night, I reconstructed my reply for
Dan, so that he could explain why she’d stared at me in an expressly odd way. He
revealed that I’d mixed the sign for “glasses” with “asses”—as in
donkey
. I immediately repeated the phrase I’d mangled while he
shook with full on laughter:
These are new asses. Do
they look good
on
me?

 Yet my new ass-face was not the worst of
the embarrassment. Cornered by another one of the girls, she exuded waves of
passive-aggressive force to spill details on Dan’s relationship with me. I
could only understand half of her prying signs; however, I did pick out one unfortunate
word: sex. Immediately, I became so extraordinarily pissed at this pushy chick
for intruding not only on my privacy, but Dan’s as well, that I couldn’t sit by
and let it go. My hands shook with a comeback as temper overrode my better
judgment.

 So
what if we have sex? At least I have a life and don’t go around gossiping about
other people to fill the emptiness of my sorry existence. Go
.
Away.

 At least that’s what I hoped I’d signed, being
a pretty advanced statement. It had probably been a disaster, however, and at
first I was eager to replay it for Danny to check the translation, but then let
it go for obvious reasons. I hated rumors more than ever. The girl responded by
glaring at me with as much annoyance as I felt for her, then puffing out an
incredulous little breath before heading to the other side of the room.
Good
. Shaking it off, I realized I wasn’t starting out on a very
good social foot in this new life of mine. At least it was familiar territory.

 Toward the end of class, I was counting
down the minutes on the clock in the corner when Nanette suddenly insisted that
I perform part of my solo with a fan she pressed into my hand. I chewed on the
inside of my cheek and debated ways of getting out of the fast-enclosing room. There
were more students today, and it had been a long rehearsal. Looking at me
expectantly, the girls smiled and gestured for me to go on and dance for them,
all except the Gossipy Bother I had squashed earlier. My energy was waning, and
I couldn’t think of a convincing excuse, having already botched two routines I
was supposed to lead. Any more mistakes and Nanette would question what was
wrong with me. Again.

 Sucking it up, I feigned confidence as I
walked to stage left of the room. Spanish themed dances had always been my
favorite; I had danced in
Don Quixote
in New York, and even had a miniscule solo with a fan like
the one I held. In a split-second decision, I decided that routine was what I
would mimic, even though the choreography had a one in a million chance of
being the same. The probability of falling asleep in the woods and waking up in
a very strange other-world was probably quite slim as well.

 The rest of the class was tucked against a
wall, waiting for me to blow them away with some kind of superhero dance moves.
I sighed silently and prepared to doom myself to imprisonment for impersonation.
The music began and I made the composition fit the choreography I knew, ignoring
the confused audience. I tried to infuse a lot of character into the movement,
in an attempt to convince them that I was competent.   

  I finished with a flourish, followed by a
deep curtsey to complete silence.

 Tilting my head up with uncertainty, I
began thinking up apologies while Nanette stared at me, and everyone else
stared at her. I smiled and gestured quickly that I had thought of it while I
was sick.

 I
just wanted to try it out

I continued
the
equivalent of babbling
in sign
.

 Nanette began to clap, shaking her head up
and down while smiling from ear to ear. The rest of the company applauded and
stood. A few of them fluttered toward me for hugs and pats on the back.

 I had to swallow blood in between smiles
,
for I’d bitten my
tongue into pulp.

...................

Still high
and mighty from my huge triumph at rehearsal, I swept through the mirror maze
with hardly a glance at my cheat sheet, eager to tell Dan the good news. I had checked
his studio in the theater before leaving, but the door was locked. It was early
afternoon, and I figured he was sleeping off his all-nighter.

 The weak sunlight
reflecting off the snow was blinding against the stark white and metallic
buildings. Since I was feeling unusually good about myself, I’d decided to trek
over to Dan’s place and surprise him. I stopped at the grocery store and picked
up some doughnuts as a gift for all the meals he’d made for me. The card Dan
had given me for credits in River worked, to my relief; any questions other
than rehearsal-related were conversations in sign that I wasn’t ready for. Thrilled
that the day hadn’t realized its potential for an incredible debacle, I had no
desire to push my precarious luck.

 Taking the tram
was even simpler than the subway. There were very few people on the tram, and I
just gazed out the window, feeling more content than I had since before River. I
still wanted to go home, of course; this place was too strange and the muting of
people so immoral that I cringed when picturing it. The faceless ruling Speakers,
with their gangster mentality, were completely terrifying to me.    

 Shaking my
head slightly, I thought about how I’d taken my freedom for granted. Oppression
was something I didn’t have a lot of experience with. After I’d become a legal
adult, the only person who held me back and kept me from living the life I
wanted was… me. My balance scales had always tipped to the side of meek in the
courage and ego department. Dancing for the small group in the studio today was
the epitome of a healthy self-esteem for me.

 Shrinking
back into the seat, I remembered I would be performing for a crowd the next
day, and my ego deflated fairly quickly. I was a shell of anxiety by the time I’d
reached the stop to Dan’s flat. When stepping out to pass the others on the tram
while nodding and smiling back at them, it took all I had just to keep my composure.
The arctic air helped my resolve. I vowed to be in a good mood for Dan; upbeat
and animated when I told him of my victory.

 Walking through
the lobby, I uncharacteristically made eye contact with a man sweeping past me.
For a long second, his eyes held mine, and then he was gone. While staring at the
black coat and white shirt collar, black hair barely touching it, my mouth gaped
open. It was the coat I’d followed through Mirror Hell the previous night. I
was sure of it. Well, as sure as I could be without being positive. He turned
the corner and was out of sight, but I still held the image in my mind,
suddenly doubtful. Everyone wore black and white here. What were the odds it
was the same person?

 Without a
chance to study his face, I recalled his eyes with perfect clarity: gray with a
blue tint. He was quite possibly very handsome, but that was beside the point. Good
looking guys were very low on my priority list—non-existent, actually. I was
blocking out all romantic impulses I had daily, for Danny’s sake. The last
thing I needed was to fantasize about a man who may or may not have saved me the
night before. Besides, he was just another stranger here. 

 Stumbling
to the elevator in a daze, I passed Danny’s doorman, Steven, and he tipped his
hat to me with a smile. I think I smiled back, too bemused to be sure. The
music on the tram and outside had been very faint, but according to Dan volume
didn’t have anything to do with the intensity of the Lulling. At least I hoped
it was the Lulling that made me feel dopey. I tapped out my name on the door,
wondering if I should have coded Dan to let him know I was coming over. Maybe
he had plans….

 Danny opened
the door after a minute, looking uneasy. Dropping the doughnut box into his
hands, I shimmied past him, in a hurry to close the door and be able to talk. I’d
almost lost what my voice sounded like.

 Blinking my
eyes to de-lull my thought process, I ran over to the stereo and turned on some
music, then swung around and waited as Dan slowly faced me. He looked shaken.

 “Dan, are
you okay?” I asked in a low voice. “What’s happened?” Something obviously had. He
just stared at me, almost through me. “Seriously, you’re scaring me.”

 He walked
over and put his arm around my shoulder.

  L
-
O-N-G  S-T-O-R-Y

 “Spill.”  My
voice came out steadier than I’d expected.

..................

Well, I’d wanted
a revolution for the people of River. I just didn’t think it would happen
tomorrow.

 
 Dan sat to write several pages, but I
was too antsy to sit still. Impatient, I made coffee, washed his two dishes in
the sink, and dusted the windowsills. After I went into the bathroom to wash my
face and quietly panic, I sat back down at the table to a war story. It was the
same as any story on the news, or test in history class: Fascist Dictators plus
Oppressed Civilians equals Violence and War. I couldn’t disagree with the
rebels—hadn’t I had the same notion? The Speakers needed to be stopped, though
instinct told me that they wouldn’t go down without a fight.

 Dan wrote
the story out succinctly and tried to minimize the risks, yet I knew he was
worried. He commented twice that he didn’t think the small faction gearing up
for the conflict—the Caravs, as they called themselves—was ready. He’d
mentioned them briefly a couple of days earlier, but I hadn’t thought of them since.
The Speakers were unaware that they existed as a group. To the jailers, they
were just average Mutes in the weekly census.

 According
to Dan, the Caravs were old families, keeping their collective heritage secret
and passing sensitive information through generations of the Speaker reign, which
had been roughly a century and a half. More knowledgeable than allowed, they had
taught Danny how to write without code when he’d given them anti-Lull as a
trade. It had taken Dan years to become a confidante. He hadn’t even known they
called themselves Caravs until one of the members wrote the name out when
trading for anti-Lull, as there was deliberately no sign for it. Danny had just
thought that they were separatists planning to escape River’s confines. One of
the members had given him a heads up earlier today, and Dan was weighing his
options when I had appeared.

 My little
problems seemed very far away.

 Danny would
not stop pacing. With arms permanently holding the back of his head up, his fingers
laced together underneath his mop of hair.

 “You’re
going to have to find a new pattern, or you’ll wear the wood out and end up in
the downstairs apartment.”

 He shot me a
glum look from under curly locks that had fallen in his face.

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